with a woman. After all, I'm with Aron, so they're wrong about a god like Aron not being with a chick.
And I personally think he's beautiful. A dick, sure, but downright gorgeous.
"It's the end of days," one greasy man laments.
Next to me, Aron snorts again.
Everyone at the table goes quiet. They're all watching us with far too much interest, and I figure it's now a good time to leave. "Think I'll see if this inn has baths. I bet my master would like one," I say brightly, a little louder than I should. "Thanks for the company, boys."
A big hand clamps down on my shoulder and I yelp, turning to see a pair of men behind me. My eyes go wide as the one with his hand on my shoulder grins down at me. He's at least six feet tall and massive, with a dirty beard and stumps of rotten teeth. "How much for your master to let us borrow you for a night?"
I try to shrug the guy's hand off as Aron gets to his feet. "I'm sure he'd say I'm not for sale—"
"Why don't you let him decide that, tart?"
Fuckin' tart. I'm really starting to hate that word.
Aron moves to my side and pats my back, as if to indicate all is well. He's still wearing the heavy cloak over his face, but I worry it's going to fall off if he beats the shit out of this guy for touching me, and then our cover will be blown.
"Master," I begin, but before I can say more, Aron puts his hand out, palm up.
The disgusting man grins at his buddy and then reaches into his pocket, pulls out a few coins, and places them in Aron's hand—
—or tries to. The moment his hand makes contact with Aron's, quick as a snake, the god's pale hand grips the other man's and twists it viciously. There's a crunch of bone that everyone in the inn can hear, and the stranger drops to his knees, screaming.
It gets deathly quiet in the inn, and no one moves.
Aron studies the coins in his hand, then flings them to the ground. Then, he puts a hand firmly on my shoulder and squeezes. The possessive gesture isn't lost on anyone, even me. He's branding me as his property without so much as a word.
The stranger's friend hastily backs away, abandoning his buddy to roll around in pain on the straw-covered floor of the inn. I glance around and everyone in the inn is staring at us, even the barkeep.
"Well," I say brightly, as if this is a normal sort of thing. "Where can a girl get her master a bath around here?" And I kick the guy that's down, just to show that I'm not afraid.
The room I share with Aron is small and grungy. We're given a greasy-smelling candle to serve as light, a pitcher of water to wash up, and a pile of blankets. The mattress itself looks like lumpy straw but it's not the ground, which makes it better than where I've slept for the last week. The room itself is about half the size of my bedroom at home, but there's a massive shuttered window that's open to let in a breeze. It'd be nice if Katharn itself didn't smell like a sewer and the view is that of the roof next door, which is so close I can practically touch it.
I'm still getting used to this world and how different it is from my own. I'm grateful to have this room, thanks to Omos's generosity with his funds, but I can't help but compare it to hotel rooms I've slept in back in my reality. Beggars can't be choosers, though, and when the innkeeper shows up with a small wooden tub and a few more pitchers of warmed water, I decide that I like this place after all. I pay him for the bath, then shut the door behind us and lower the heavy wooden bar over the door to “lock” it. I turn to Aron to ask if he wants first dibs on the bath—
—but as I turn around, I realize he's already undressing. Of course arrogant Aron would think he gets to go first. I should have expected that. I'm…not even mad, though? Because he tosses aside his cape and his tunic immediately and then I'm staring at a massive expanse of pale, perfect chest that looks as if it's carved from marble. It makes me feel curiously